


Affliction

by wanderstar



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 19:36:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16919100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderstar/pseuds/wanderstar
Summary: Copia is not part of the bloodline, and yet, he still possesses that single piercing white eye.This is just one possibility on how that may have come about.





	Affliction

**Author's Note:**

> Directly inspired by the headcanons of opuseponymustard on tumblr.

When the headache had appeared earlier that day, Copia had just assumed it was from overwork. Stress headaches weren’t exactly an uncommon occurrence with how he threw himself into his duties for the church, and at first, that’s what it appeared to be. One more instance of an irritating ache behind his temples, this time as a punishment for his late night in the library.

Now, however, he wasn’t so sure.

Each step he took down the stone hallway sent another stab of pain into his left eye socket, his vision swimming as the pain radiated outwards with his heartbeat. Soon it became hard to see even the stained glass windows that lined the hall and he staggered, just barely catching his weight on the wall. This was progressing far too quickly. Alarmingly so.

The papers he had been carrying fluttered to the floor, forgotten, Copia groping his way along the wall while the pain continued to burn like molten glass in his eye. He didn’t know how long he stood there, sagged against the wall and just barely moving forward, but eventually he felt clawed hands grabbing his arms, lifting him up. There was soft chittering as he was guided forward, carried along until he felt himself set down onto a bed. He only partially noticed when his biretta fell off. Or when blankets were thrown over him, clothes still on and before he had any chance to change. But he didn’t have time to ponder the strange ministrations of the ghouls, or why there were even helping him in the first place. Copia’s thoughts were elsewhere, captive to a burning fever dream that rose in his mind’s eye and consumed him in whole.

—

Papa Emeritus III tapped his fingers on the table, his chin propped up on his other hand as he watched the door to the room. Earlier that week, when Copia hadn’t appeared to attend on Papa Nihil, he’d wondered if the Cardial had finally ended up dead from overwork. As much fun as he was to mess around with that man really needed to learn how to take a break. A few people had even made bets on what happened to him, but soon enough a ghoul had shown them where he actually was - simply sick in his bed from overwork, rather than dead. A tragic waste of money for the losers.

(He should have bet even more money on his survival, honestly).

Now, apparently recovered, Copia had asked to speak with Nihil and other top church members about his recent sickness. To grovel for forgiveness for his absence? Papa III hoped not. That would be a new low even for Copia.

Finally a knock came and Papa III straitened up, his brother, Papa Nihil, Sister Imperator, and other officials also turning their attention to the door. With a creak of wood and shuffling of feet Cardinal Copia entered the room, dressed in his black cassock and bat winged biretta, eyes cast to the floor. That was odd. Copia didn’t usually look away when he was about to kiss up to someone.

“Your Dark Excellencies,” Copia said, giving a short bow. “Forgive my recent absence. There have been some recent… developments.”

Sister Imperator raised an eyebrow, hands resting on the edge of her podium. “Developments? And what, precisely, would those be Cardinal? Elaborate.”

The Cardinal raised his eyes. The right gray-green. The left, a pure white iris.

Several soft gasps were heard, along with the sudden scraping of a chair as Papa II rose to his feet. Papa III blinked in surprise, mouth hanging open. Well. It seemed like he wasn’t the only one with a flair for the dramatic.

“Those of my most recent affliction, Sister Imperator.”


End file.
